


Okay

by likealocket



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-04
Updated: 2007-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-02 20:37:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likealocket/pseuds/likealocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's spent the last year learning to be brave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2006 Yankee Fic Swap Challenge. Written right before "Benehana Christmas" aired in 2006 and set in July 2007, so it's obviously majorly AU. Thanks to o4fuxache for the beta.

**July 2007 - Philadelphia, PA**

Pam loves weddings. There's something inherently beautiful in the hallowed churches; the fragrant, colorful bursts of flowers; the soft, flowing music; and the tears and laughter of loved ones that appeals exceedingly to her artist's heart.

She loves to go home after, overflowing with inspiration and curl up in her favorite armchair. Still in her dress with her hair all done up, she can fill page after sketchbook page with the angle of sunlight through ornate stained glass windows or the way two hands can fit together so perfectly they must have been meant to be like that, always.

The ceremony today had been breathtaking, the largest and fanciest Pam had ever witnessed. The reception is equally incredible, if not more so, Pam observes as a tuxedo-clad waiter offers her a selection of delicious looking hors d'oeuvres from a tray. She has absolutely no idea what they are, but she takes one each of the two that look the prettiest and thanks the waiter, who nods and disappears into the crowd.

The extravagance surprises Pam, because Melissa used to live in Pam's building (and Pam was never exactly rich) and she's so funny and down to earth. But Pam also knows that Melissa's family has some money and she's the only girl amongst four brothers, so her parents obviously went all out for their little girl's special day.

Pam looks around and finds Melissa and her new husband Aaron on the dance floor, swaying slowly, oblivious to their lavish surroundings, unaware of anything but each other, and smiles.

 _I want that_ , she wishes to herself, overcome with the wistful longing of a natural-born romantic.

Pam is very aware that she had it once, and a million chances to grasp it that she never took. She had been so afraid of what Jim meant to the precariously balanced plans for her future that she refused to see what he meant to _her_. Which, she knows now, was everything. _Is_ everything.

She had let him walk out of her life, reluctantly back in again, and finally out for good one bitterly cold January evening six months ago. The regret had been paralyzing until she decided she was done making excuses and standing still; and that moving forward would be the only way to get anywhere at all.

Though they haven't spoken a single word since that evening and she has no idea how he feels anymore, every moment of the past six months has been spent finding her way back to him.

She's begun to plan for another future; one where she is happy, where she leaves her awful job, goes back to art school, prepares to move to a new city simply because Jim is there, and is brave enough to let herself love him.

Pam can see it getting closer. Tomorrow she'll be taking a small step, and in another two months, she'll take the leap and hope he's there on the other side. If he's not, it will hurt more than she wants to think about. She knows she'll have to prepare herself for that outcome, but it's still two months away before she'll seek him out and tonight she refuses to let that cloud her mind.

The delicious-looking fare on her tiny napkin is begging to be tasted but Pam has a feeling she'll need something to wash it down with, so she weaves through the maze of tables toward the open bar. She spots a space at the bar's edge and asks the bartender for a white wine.

There are groups of people around the small bar and Pam feels the man beside her straighten up. From the corner of her eye she sees him turn to face her.

It's embarrassing really, she's 26 years old and still incredibly uneasy at being hit on by strangers. It just never happened while she was with Roy, because she never went out anywhere without him. And after they broke up and she accepted Kelly's invitations to go out once in awhile, Jim was too ever-present in her mind to even notice the attention from interested guys, let alone be flattered.

She can feel his eyes ogling her up and down, so she avoids looking that way, instead she watches the bartender and a couple laughing across the room slightly to her left, hoping he'll take the hint and leave her alone.

" _Pam?_ "

_Jim?_

She knows it's him before she meets his eyes; she'd know that voice anywhere. She hears that voice _everywhere_.

But she never expected him _here_.

She isn't prepared to face him yet (that is still two months away, she's not ready, oh God, it's _him_ ) and she can only stare for a moment (same dancing eyes, same soft hair, just a little shorter, curling in wisps around the same familiar ears). Six months of silence has made him a wildcard and this could go a million different ways, but all she can think is _Jim_ and _real_ and _finally_. Pam's mouth forms a small 'O' before breaking out into a wide smile.

"Oh my God," she whispers, and she means it like a prayer. By any rights he should hate her now, turn away coldly without a word and not look back. She half prepares herself for it.

Only, "Hey, Beesly," he says softly, and it comes out like the last time they saw each other was six hours ago and not six months. His eyes are wide with shock, but a smile twitches up the corner of his lips. "Um... wow. Hi."

"Hey," she whispers back with a little laugh, shaking her head. His eyes are shining in a way that makes Pam ache with its familiarity, and she knows this Jim. She loves him.

The impulse to hug him, to touch him and make sure he's real overtakes her, and she reaches out, forgetting the napkin in her hand until it's too late. A small stuffed croissant slides from her hand and lands messily on the carpet beside Jim's shoe.

Jim tips his head a little, eyebrows raised. "A food fight? _Really_ , Pam?"

Pam balls up the napkin, setting it on the bar with a giggle and rises up on her toes to slip her arms around his neck. After a moment, his hands come up to her sides and slide around her back, the fingertips of his left hand finding the skin above the low (as low as she'd dare) cut back of her dress. She feels his nose press into her hair and she closes her eyes with her cheek against the smooth lapel of Jim's suit jacket. All the longing and pain and regret and awkwardness that Pam expects to be there between them isn't there, and in their place is a feeling she can't explain but she thinks it's called 'hope'.

She has thought about this moment for a long time, and there were countless possibilities for how it would go, but none of them were... this. They stay like that for a long moment, until Pam hears a pointed throat-clearing and opens her eyes to see the bartender gesturing to her glass of wine.

"Thanks," she says, stepping back from Jim and reaching for the glass; the napkin is gone.

"You sure you got that?" Jim asks with a smirk.

"Very," Pam promises, giggling.

Jim gestures over his shoulder with his head and Pam nods, following him to a deserted table at the outskirts of the ballroom, away from the noisy, crowded dance floor. Once there, Jim pulls out a chair for her and sinks into the one beside it.

"Forgive me for asking the obvious," Jim says immediately, "but, um... what are you doing here, Pam?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Pam points out. "Melissa was my neighbor for a few years, when I lived-" she pauses, unwilling to bring up Roy or any of _that_ just yet. "Um, before I got my new place. She and I became really close."

"That's... wow," Jim says, shaking his head a little, leaning back in his chair. "It really is a small world. I went to school with Aaron and when I moved out here to Philadelphia I looked him up again," he explains. "I knew Melissa was from Scranton, but... I didn't know _that_."

"So you still live here then?" He didn't tell her where he was going when he left in January; she says 'still' and hopes he understands that she cared enough to find out.

Pam can't ignore how much it stings to admit that the chasm between them is so wide now that she isn't even sure about this simple fact in his life. And even more, to know that it's her fault.

She remembers his last day, he pretending to be busy with nonexistent paperwork until they were the only two left in the office. This was really it, not a transfer this time; he was quitting Dunder Mifflin (and her) for good.

The first day back after the New Year, Pam noticed a coldness between Jim and Karen. A week later, Karen transferred to New York. Then Jim started to give her those looks again, the ones she saw nearly every day leading up to Casino Night; and he didn't even try to hide them this time around. Pam wasn't blind, she knew what it all meant, and it should have been so simple.

She was still trying to figure out her own life; she wanted to be happy and whole as a person when she asked him to let her back into his life and love her again. But he had been waiting for her for so long. She saw the desperation and the resignation in his eyes during the few weeks before he left Scranton, and her, forever, but she just couldn't, not _yet_ and she couldn't find the words to make him understand that that didn't mean not _ever_ but she knew it wasn't fair to ask him to wait for her any more.

When he stood and carried his box to her desk, she knew it was her last chance. He wasn't going to save her this time; it was up to her to save them both. Through his eyes he pleaded with her, begging for something she didn't think she could give. Her heart was in her throat and her emotions ready to spill over, but she was so blindly terrified she couldn't get her mouth to move at all.

He sighed and looked down at his feet. "Goodbye, Pam," he'd whispered and walked out of her life.

She'd spent the last year learning to be brave so she could walk back into his.

 

"Yeah. I moved in with my brother Jon and his girlfriend Amy out here when I left Scranton, and now we have a house." Jim says. His mouth twists into a wry grin, and Pam comes back into the moment. "Though I'm pretty sure I'm about to be kicked out, because Jon just bought a ring."

With the mention of rings and girlfriends, it occurs to Pam that she has no idea if Jim is seeing anyone. He could have a girlfriend, a fiancé. He could be _married_ , though if she knows him like she once did, that isn't likely to have happened so soon. It's a question that she isn't sure she wants the answer to. Old Pam wouldn't have dared, but Brave New Pam needs to ask, needs to know.

"Are you, um," Pam looks down at the unused cloth napkin she's been absently rubbing between her first two fingers, and then back up to his eyes, "here with anyone?"

Jim is quiet, and it looks like he doesn't know what to say. "Um, wow. Pam. This is kind of awkward." Jim leans forward with a thoughtful look, mouth drawn to one side, eyebrows furrowed. Pam squirms a little bit, twisting the cloth to mirror the twisting in her chest. She's too late. Again.

He glances around and takes in a deep, preparatory breath. "I'm here with Dwight. We couldn't hide our love any longer. He wanted to wait, but I told him I just can't live like that anymore." Jim shakes his head, sadly.

Pam's anxiety dissolves into a fit of giggles and she chucks the napkin at him. Jim catches it easily with a grin and laughs along with her. Her heart twists again for an entirely different reason.

"Me too," she says. Jim's eyebrows rise scandalously and Pam rushes to finish her thought. "I'm here alone too, not here with Dwight. Oh God." A shiver of disgust creeps down her back, but she can't help matching his grin.

For over an hour they sit their talking, until the ballroom is nearly deserted. She tells him stories - interrupted by laughter - of what's happened at the Scranton branch since January. Kevin's band played their first gig and _rocked out_ , according to Kevin. Phyllis and Bob Vance (Vance Refrigeration) have set a date, according to Phyllis. Kelly and Ryan have set a color scheme, chosen the menu, their first dance song, a honeymoon location and the names of the first three kids, according to Kelly. (Meanwhile, Ryan's almost done with business school and has been seen studying a map of the US.) Michael... is still Michael, according to everyone.

Pam doesn't tell him that she's quitting in a month. That will come later, with a few other surprises. She thinks that she should but it will lead to lots of other questions and this isn't the time or place she was planning to have this conversation with him. Nothing with Jim has ever gone according to a plan, though, and she realizes now that tonight is the night.

Pam has a room in the connecting hotel and she surprises them both with her boldness in inviting him up.

He surprises her back, by agreeing.

 

The room door shuts behind her with a decisive click and there's a long moment of awkwardness. It's obvious to Pam that Jim has no idea what to do, how to act, and is waiting for a cue from her. She expected things to be changed, but this is turning out to be harder than she thought.

Pam hates being uncomfortable around him, it's the most unnatural feeling because she knows it's the complete opposite of what they should be.

"Do you mind if I change?" she blurts out, suddenly needing to get out of the formal clothes, like maybe it will change the formal way they're acting now.

"No, yeah," Jim says, obviously relieved. "But only if I can lose the jacket."

Pam sifts through her small suitcase to find what she needs and disappears into the bathroom to change. She knows she should probably put on the tee shirt and jeans she wore for the drive in last night, but it's so late and she doesn't think Jim will mind if she just goes with pajamas.

She's both relieved and disappointed that she brought flannel shorts and a tee shirt to sleep in instead of the new silky nightgown she'd allowed herself to indulge in buying last weekend. The thought of Jim seeing her in it paints delicious pictures across her mind, but then she remembers the huge gap they need to cross before she should even begin to think those thoughts again.

Pam emerges to find Jim in the armchair beside the bed, his jacket draped across the back. His tie is loosened, his top shirt button's undone, his shoes discarded, sock-clad feet crossed at the ankles on the edge of the bed, and Pam has an overwhelming urge to curl up in his lap.

The boldness of that particular mental image colors her cheeks. She becomes Old Pam again, ducking her head and tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. _Brave_ , she reminds herself. _You want this. And you can have it now, if he'll take you._

She steps out of the bathroom doorway.

"So what are your plans tomorrow?" Jim asks.

"I'm going to- Oh my God!" All of her hesitation melts away because _this_ part will be so, so easy. "I can't believe I didn't tell you yet!" Pam plops onto the bed beside his feet, tucking a leg underneath her and practically bouncing with excitement. "You remember that I started taking art classes again, right? After, um," Pam knows she needs to talk about it sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner, "after the wedding was called off."

"Yeah," Jim says with a small smile that Pam knows means he's proud of her for it -for both parts of it.

"I re-enrolled at Marywood, like, right after that first little class at the community center because it was so..." she can't find the word for what it was like to feel that way again, so she settles on, " _good_."

Jim nods, like he expected nothing less. "Obviously."

"It's been going really well," she continues, gaining courage from his support. "Really, really well. So well, in fact, that..." She trails off, taking a deep breath. How long has she wanted to share this with him? Waiting, planning the perfect timing, only for tonight to happen and it's now or never.

"I applied for a transfer last semester, to The University of the Arts. It has an incredible Illustration program and the faculty are, like, _amazing_ , Jim, and the campus is so-" she cuts herself off with a little laugh, blushing at her excitement.

"So what you're saying is that you hate the place, basically," Jim summarizes in that way he does, and _oh_ , how she's missed this.

"Yes, exactly," Pam agrees with a grin, and then grows more serious, "I didn't think I'd ever get in, but I also knew that I _never_ would if I didn't even try." Jim looks down at his hands, and she knows he gets her double meaning. "But... I _did_. Get in." saying it even now feels like she's dreaming. "I'm going to be paying off student loans until I'm 87, but..."

"...but it'll totally be worth it," Jim finishes her thought for her, and she nods along enthusiastically.

"Beesly! That's great!" He seems genuinely happy for her, even though he doesn't know the details. It reminds her of the graphic design internship and the way Jim loved her then. Without conditions, without complication. He just _did_.

He deserves nothing less than the same from her now, and it's time to make him see that.

"And, um, I have to move and I already got a new apartment," which she picked out with her mom two weeks ago and she's officially signing the lease for tomorrow afternoon. Pam hesitates, but only for a moment. "You have no idea where this school is, do you?"

Jim's face falls suddenly, and it's obvious the thought hadn't occurred to him. She can't tell if he's afraid she'll be too close or too far away. He cocks a questioning eyebrow.

"Here, Jim. It's here," she says it to her hands, because even Brave Pam knows how much is riding on this. How crucial his reaction is to...everything.

"Here," he says after a moment, and it's a statement, not a question. His feet come down off the edge of the bed. "You're moving here."

She'd intended to have an apartment and new classes and the beginnings of a life here before she asked anything of him. She had wanted to have made the sweeping grand gesture that he couldn't deny (he put his life on hold so long for her, and for him she would finally begin to live hers) to make him see that she meant it this time.

He's looking at her now, not even trying to mask the million unanswered questions in his eyes. _Why? How? Were you ever planning to tell me if you hadn't run into me tonight? Does this mean...?_

"Jim, I need to... There's a lot I've wanted to say to you." Everything she's practiced in her head wants to come out at once. "Since-"

"Pam, it's okay," Jim interrupts, cutting her off. She hears a familiar weariness in his voice, and it cuts her deeply to think about how many times the things she's said -or not said- have hurt him. And how many times he's cut her off like this, made excuses and given her easy outs, all at his own expense.

"No," she insists, shaking her head firmly. "Please, let me say this. I'm not going to say the past few months have been easy, because that would be a lie. But they have been really good in a lot of ways, and I see now that I needed them." Jim's eyes cloud over, and she realizes how that sounds. "I would give anything to not have hurt you, Jim. Please believe that. I just mean that I needed the worst possible wake up call ever to see what my life had become."

Pam pauses, fingers toying absently with the hem of her shorts, slipping back just a little, scared again. _No_ , she reminds herself. _No going back. He's right here, in front of you._

"A huge part of why I'm doing this is for me, I need you to know that. I finally found me again. I'd forgotten how to just be _me_ and I can't begin to tell you how terrifying that is." She thinks that he knows though, because he knows her, so she doesn't try to explain. "I want draw and travel and get a cat and live somewhere new and start over and just be happy," the plans come pouring out and she's almost there, almost to the most important part. "I see now that I can have all those things, but they don't mean anything... without you."

The confession lifts an enormous weight from her chest and she feels like she can breathe again. There's just one more thing she has to make clear.

"You don't have to say anything now. I'm not making a declaration or an ultimatum or anything like that." She quickly looks up into his eyes, willing him to understand that she didn't mean to imply any negative correlation to what he said to her on Casino Night.

He nods, and she knows he understands.

"I just needed you to know where I stood. Where I stand, actually. And to let you know that I'm not moving any time soon." A smile flickers across her lips, "Except, um, when I actually _move_. But, that's to _here_ , so..."

Pam catches a flicker of a smile, but he won't look at her. She's trembling a little (okay, a lot), and she knows Jim half expects her to retreat, to take it back, to make another excuse. But she holds her ground, refuses to look away, because she's never meant anything more in her life and she needs to make him see that.

He's quiet for so long, chin in his hand, fingers covering his mouth and nose now so all she can see is his usually expressive eyes, which give away absolutely nothing.

"Okay," he finally says. And he's just Jim again, and there's no hidden meaning in the words. He gets up from the chair and sits beside her on the edge of the bed.

"Okay?" she asks, so proud of Brave Pam and how far she's come to get back to him.

"Okay," he confirms, his small smile giving away that he kind of can't believe it either.

It really is okay now.

There's still a lot unsaid and undiscovered, but that's okay, too.

 

Pam doesn't sketch that night.

Instead, she lays on her back beside Jim over top the covers on a hotel bed. She doesn't need to draw the perfect meeting of two hands because she's got the live version, his long, warm fingers entwined with her own.


End file.
